Guardian and Goddess story 1
by x-menobsessed26
Summary: Sometimes pasts really do come back to haunt you. What happens when those pasts endanger the lives of everyone on Earth? First in a series. ON HIATUS
1. Author's Note

**Okay, I've been postponing these stories for a long time in order to finish up the ones I'm working on, but I'm getting tired of that. I just want to get these up. This is something I've been wanting to do for a long time now.**

**First, this is only one story in a series of, like, four that I'm going to be working with. There will also be two more in this series that are going to be alternate reality type situations. It will make a lot more sense later, and I'll also bring it up again later.**

**Second, I'm _really_ going to be messing with everything you may or may not know about these characters. I'm pretty much remixing their entire histories. I hope you don't hold that against me and give the story a chance.**

**The thing most people don't take notice of is the '#1'. Typically in a series you read the first book first, and the same goes with this. If this is your first Guardian and Goddess story, you're in the right spot!**

**Some of the other "goddesses and guardians" should be fairly obvious as the story goes on. They're meant to be so don't feel like you're spoiling the story or anything.**

**If you get offended by certain religions or beliefs easily, please don't read this story. I love people reading my stories, but if you're just going to bash them based on what I wrote as the backbone of my plot and not the stuff that's REALLY messed up, please leave. I only ask for no flames.**

**Lastly, I would like to mention that I am probably famous on this site for working a lot and then not at all and then a lot and...well, it's a cycle. Don't expect updates everyday, maybe even every week as I am still in high school.**


	2. Sooner Rather Than Later

**Thank you for the review I got last chapter. In response, I'm sorry for those people who don't like an author's note in the beginning of a story. I put it there so I can say I told ya so when people complain about something obvious in the story. It's a warning. I didn't mean to offend anybody if I did. Anyway, here's the next chapter. It would have been up sooner, but my computer decided it wanted to delete the first copy, so I had to start all over.**

Ororo tried to ignore the screams and breaking glass sounds from outside the walls of her apartment. The riots had gotten worse. She had seen this type of thing happen before, but never this bad. She had come to America from Kenya, Africa in 1919 and had seen the women's suffrage movement in the flesh. It hadn't been nearly this bad.

This was a period that would later become known as the African-American Civil Rights Movement. The people in the later years can say all they want that it was a horrible time and that no one was capable of such hate and anger, but she would silently dare them to travel back in time and sit in her shoes. Thinking about how she was treated everyday, she prayed that Kendra and Joslyn, the two young women she shared an apartment with, got home safely tonight if this riot outside their building couldn't cease.

She could hear the people, probably the whites because she couldn't imagine why blacks would say it, chanting outside the same thing Gov. George Wallace had said. It had become this group of high school renegades' catchphrase, "Segragation today, segragation tomorrow, segregation forever."

It made her sick.

A rock came soaring through the window, probably a stray from the crowd below, and sirens began to fill the chilly night air, and the shouts quieted. No one wanted to be caught in the middle of police intervention. Long after the shouting has stopped and Ororo has gone to bed, not expecting Kendra and Joslyn to come home any time soon, she can't stop thinking. She can't stop thinking about a phrase in the speech President Kennedy had given earlier in the week.

He asked for 'the kind of equality of treatment which we would want for ourselves'. Such a large yet simple thing to ask for, but not so easily given. Still, she prayed that a resolution would come.

Sooner rather than later.

**I'm sorry, I know that one was rather short, but I wanted to get it up as soon as I could. It also had a lot of historical information and I wanted to be sure to get that part done so if anyone had to look anything up, they could.**

**Review please!**


	3. Watching the Bar

**I got a review asking why Ororo wasn't out there stopping the fight. I think it's a VERY valid question, and would like to answer it as best I can without giving anything away. **

**I agree that the Ororo we saw in the show would have tried to stop the rioting, but my point is very simple. She isn't that Ororo yet. Her past will be explained later, and hopefully it will clear up some of those holes we saw. Logan isn't going to be like the one we saw in the show right away either, but he will be more similar than Ororo.**

**I apologize for the confusion and for the fact I haven't been able to get any chapters up as soon as I would have liked. Anyone that is in or has ever been in high school (specifically a junior. Stupid ACT) should understand where I'm coming from.**

Logan took another large swig of the beer he was drinking. He still had no idea why he was in Alabama. A gut feeling would be the best way to describe it. If there's one thing the Wolverine had learned, it's you don't mess with instincts.

His ears perked at the sounds of the screaming outside the bar's doors and windows, but he didn't make a move to get up. This wasn't his fight, and if his gut was any indication, it wasn't one to join either.

Logan signaled to the bartender for another, but just then the doors swung open, letting in the cooler, humid air in. A bunch of angry guys walked in, about thirteen in all, all in mid-twenties or early thirties by looks, and all were sporting signs of having been in a recent fight. They came up to the bar and all ordered a bunch of beers. The bartender passed them out, only having about eight in all, and made a quiet excuse to leave and go get more, asking Logan to watch the place for him.

Logan had been in town for about a week and spent more than his fair share of time inside of this bar. Besides, even being on the short side, Logan gave off a "I'll kick your ass if you mess with me" vibe. No wonder the owner trusted him.

While he waited for him to come back, he could hear everything that group was saying, "Those niggers never stood a chance. Do they really think the government is going to help them?"

Logan rolled his eyes as the other guys laughed. Yep, they were definitely the ones from the brawl outside. One of the other guys continued, "Not as long as we have our good old white boys in office. Those black pieces of scum don't stand no chance in Hell."

They all laughed and continued their verbal tirade against the African-Americans. Logan saw no point in this fighting. Just give the black people some rights. Honestly, in all his time, he'd learned that any kind of prejudice was a waste of time. Everyone had good qualities, especially in war, and he'd definitely lived through enough of those.

"What do you think?" one of the white boys, one with a probably broken nose, asked Logan.

Logan shrugged. He wanted to tell them to go to hell, but he didn't want to start a fight. He simply shrugged and said, "Damn niggers."

This triggered more laughs in the group, and a sick feeling in his stomach.

**Review please!**


	4. Some Days You Can't Win

**I just realized how short my chapters have gotten, and not just on this story. I sincerly apologize for that and will work to try and make them longer. I credit this to the hour I have a day to work on a chapter, and I like to upload chapters as often as I can. Anyway, enough of my chatter. Back to the story.**

Ororo woke up the next morning with a pain in her neck and blur in her eyes. Just as she had figured, Kendra and Joslyn hadn't come home last night. After a cold shower and piece of stale bread for breakfast, she walked outside and down the street to begin her job as a maid. In America, it was generally easy for her to find a job, even though she had racial prejudice against her. In Africa, she never had needed to work. They had worshiped her. At first she had loved it; then she began to notice how un-goddess like she was, at least to their standards. 1919 she flew on the winds to America.

Steadily she had been moving around the country, hoping that wherever she went, no one would recognize her, being she was an immortal black woman with bright white hair and piercing blue eyes. Her past in America was far from bright, as was her past in Africa. Neither of those two places held memories of people she would like to see again. So far, no one had recognized her. They just saw her skin color, never really looking past that to notice much else. Ororo got to the hotel and walked in. The white manager at the desk whispered something to one of his employees and he laughed. Probably a racial joke.

"Do you have any work for me today?" She asked politely after waiting her turn in a line where people kept their distance for fear of touching her.

He sneered at her, and she supressed the urge to slap it right off his face that she had long since kept hidden. A man in her memories had taught her how, though he was not the kindest teacher, "Of course. There's always work for someone like you. There are some toilets in the back that need cleaning. The men's restroom. A quarter a toilet."

Now the flame of anger within her became a blazing inferno, but she simply smiled and walked toward the toilets in the back. First, they were the most disgusting toilets you can imagine, caked with feces, urine, mold, vomit, and she was sure a bunch of other things she would rather remain ignorant to. Second, a quarter for cleaning one of those toilets was _outrageous_! She'd like to see him do the work. (**Sorry to interrupt the story, but just to let you know, a quarter in 1963 would be about $1.76 in 2010 with inflation.) **However she needed the money and was in no position to argue otherwise, as she knew he knew.

Once she was standing in the restroom he came walking past and said, "If you can make that whole room shine, I'll give you $5.00." **(In 2010, about $35.22.)**

As he walked away laughing, she blinked away the tears that shone like diamonds in her eyes. The whole room was just as much, if not more, of a mess as the toilets. This was going to be a very long and messy day.

* * *

><p>For Logan, it already was. Someone had decided to pick a fight with Logan. Problem was, they were both drunk. The other guy was beaten, nearly to death, but it wasn't his problem he had metal knuckles. Logan just had had a broken nose, which had left a nice wet red stain down his shirt. When he got to the hotel, he walked in, bluntly ignoring the hotel manager, and walked to the back of the hotel. He had specially requested a room back there after inspecting the place unknown to the staff. It was absolutely disgusting, but that was a small price to pay for the solitude it provided.<p>

He walked into the restroom to clean the blood from his face and stopped in his tracks. Cleaning the floor with a toothbrush, right in front of his face, was a young black woman with shining white hair. He looked around the room, and back down at the floor. She's either really desperate or this was how bad things had gotten in the south. With a jolt in his gut, he decided both were true.

The 2x6 area she had just cleaned was shining like the sun, but the rest was coated in muck, "Hello?"

She looked up and blue eyes met brown. A non-painful punch was felt in both of their stomachs with waves expanding out from where it "hit". An intense burning was felt on each of their right shoulders. Both collapsed on the floor unconsious, waking up a minute later.

_What the hell was that?_ Logan thought as he put a hand to his forehead, which felt warm with a fever he didn't have.

_I don't know._ Ororo thought back.

Logan looked at her, "I didn't say anything."

She frowned, "Yes you did. I heard you. I'm not stupid."

"I know that." _I'm not as stuck on stupid prejudices as everyone else._

Ororo gasped with surprise and Logan looked at her, "Let me guess. You could hear that."

She nodded with a hand over her mouth. Logan sighed.

Somedays you just can't win.


	5. Story for Another Time

**I can only assume that the story is going well so far when I have next to no reviews, but tons of favorites and alerts. If you get the chance, please confirm or deny my suspicions.**

Ororo finally shook herself from her daze, picked up the toothbrush, and began to scrub at the floor again. She closed her eyes, but continued to scrub, cringing and waiting.

Logan stood and looked down at her. It was clear from the way her posture was, she was waiting to get hit. Little did this woman know he doesn't hit women...unless they try to kill him first, "I'm not going to hurt you. You don't need to cower."

From what he could see of her profile, she opened her eyes, but stared at the grim covered floor she was scrubbing. If this is what was expected of African-Americans here, Logan was suddenly glad he was Canadian. Yeah, Canada was far from perfect, but this was...awful.

He reached down and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her to her feet. Still she refused to look him in the eye. He knew that _this_, this woman, is the reason he had come down to Alabama. He didn't know why or what this girl had to do with him. Only that she did. Logan cupped her chin and made her look at him, "Why do you do this?"

She looked startled, "Do what?"

His eyes got dark, "Pick something. Why do you do this kind of work? Why do you cringe away from me? Why won't you look me in the eye? Why?"

"You don't need to know," she said, as she pulled the reaction straight from her core. She ripped her arm free and backed away from him.

He smirked without humor, "Actually, I think I do. You felt the connection. You heard my thoughts. You felt the burning on your shoulder. I did too. There's something there."

"It-it's probably nothing."

Now he laughed, "Woman, probably nothing would have been anything but what happened."

"So what do we do?"

He sighed, "I don't know. What's your name?"

"Ororo. Ororo Munroe."

He held out his hand, "Logan."

She stared at it for a moment before tentatively shaking it. Logan shook his head, "I don't know what has happened to you, but I'm not going to hurt you."

_We'll see._ She thought.

_There shouldn't be any doubt. I promise I won't hurt you, unless you try to hurt me first. I always keep my promises._ Logan thought back at her.

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?" she asked.

Neither could deny it.

* * *

><p>Ororo walked into her apartment with Logan in tow, "Kendra! Joslyn!"<p>

The two girls came out, each carrying boxes. Kendra looked extremely guilty, but Joslyn just looked angry.

To say Ororo Munroe was shocked would be the most obvious, idiotic phrase ever uttered in the history of language, "What's going on?"

Kendra bowed her head in an effort to hide herself from the shame crawling along her body, but as Kendra shrunk, Joslyn seemed to grow, "We're leaving."

"Where are you planning on going?"

The older sister (Joslyn) glared at Ororo, though it was clear it wasn't her she was angry with, "I've had enough of this. So has Kendra. We're going back to Africa. We thought coming here would provide greater experiences and opportunities, but all it's gotten us is pain. I'm sorry Ororo, but this just isn't worth it."

Ororo looked away, "Is this because I didn't come to find you last night?"

Joslyn shook her head, but it was Kendra who spoke, "We saw the riot outside the building and knew since we couldn't get it, you couldn't get out. We don't blame you at all. It's them."

And Joslyn turned her eyes up at Logan, "And now you've brought one into our home."

Logan held up his arms in defense, "I'm not a prejudice American."

"I can tell by your voice. That doesn't matter. You'll end up on their side just to fit in. No one ever really stays on our side long," Joslyn shrugged. "Oh well. C'mon Kendra. The bus will be waiting for us."

Kendra gave Ororo a crushing hug before picking up her box and running out the door. Joslyn followed her little sister without a word. The looks in her eyes saying more than words ever could. Ororo knew she should cry, but she didn't want to. It had always been a matter of time. She brushed her white hair out of her eyes, and shut the door, not bothering to lock it.

Right on cue, Logan said, "Shouldn't you lock it?"

Ororo spread her arms wide, "What're they going to steal?"

It was painful to admit, and he was just a spectator, but there really wasn't anything here, "This is why you clean toilets."

Ororo looked up at him, "Oh! I have money. At least some, but I'm trying to save it. After the Great Depression, it's not worth not having some kind of a support system."

He understood that, but something struck him as odd, "You were in the Great Depression?" She didn't look more than twenty.

She shrugged, "I have...a connection...to the Earth. It keeps me young."

"Makes you immortal," Logan said knowingly.

"Exactly."

"So what can you do?" He asked as he sat on the floor, not trusting the weight of his metal laced bones on the delicate furniture.

She cocked her head to the side for a moment, as if to assess what he wanted from her, but when she was finally satisfied that Logan didn't wish her any harm, she let her eyes cloud in a glorious glowing white and created a small thundercloud right in front of him.

He was amazed, but not by the cloud. Yeah, that was stunning, but so was she. She looked like a godess. He tried to shake off the feeling. Obviously this woman didn't like him, so why offset her even more?

When she had finished her small weather wonder, she grinned at him, "What's yours."

He supressed a sigh as he popped his right hand claws out. They gleamed in the sunlight that was streaming in from the window. He expected her to scream and run in fear, but instead her face filled with compassion and caring, and she walked over toward him to get down on her knees beside him. Ororo grabbed his hand that still had the claws out.

_Don't touch them. You'll be sorry. _Logan sent to her.

But she wasn't concerned with whether they'd hurt _her_, "How much do they hurt when they come out?"

He pulled them back in with a _snikt!_ "Not anymore. I'm sure they did at some point, but you get used to it."

She nodded in understanding, "How do you not bleed? They do cut through your skin, yes?"

"They called it healing factor." He said popping out one claw and running it across his arm. She was horrified until she saw it almost instantly start to heal. "It's what keeps _me_ young. I still aged for years, but it eventually stablized at about 38 physical years. I won't age a day past that."

Ororo was captivated by it for a moment, but eventually stood and looked down at him, "Is the metal natural too?"

"That's a story for another time darlin'."


	6. Scars

****Thank you to Lovely Reader, jazphace, and Jeanniebird for reviewing last chapter. ****

****I've decided to remix the story a little from what I had planned to do, just to make it make a little more sense and answer some questions. This chapter is going to end up being a lot of background explaining. Not much action, not that there has been. I apologize for those who were expecting or wanting some. There eventually will be, but formalities need to be taken care of first. Anyway, onto the story.****

****Oh! If you know anything about Logan or Storm from the movies or comics or whatever, please exclude that knowledge from your brains. This story will take those backgrounds in totally different directions as you will see by the end of this story, if not this chapter. Please don't hold it against me. It's just my creative energy trying to escape.****

****WARNING! : This chapter contains adult themes. Read with caution.****

Logan had ended up sleeping on the floor, not even bothering with the pathetic excuse for a sofa in the corner. He was sure he would have woken up with a sore neck had his healing factor not taken care of everything. Ororo in the apartment, fully dressed but still showing the obvious signs of a recent shower from which she had probably done in a bathroom down the hall shared by all.

She ignored his presence, and walked over to the cupboards in the small excuse for a kitchen, picking through them until she found a loaf of stale bread. She began picking small chunks off and popping them in her mouth. She was staring at him, and he was staring back.

She swallowed a particularly dry piece and ask, "Who?"

"Pardon?"

She popped another piece in her mouth, trying not to cringe at the lack of flavor, "Who did that to you? You implied that the metal didn't come with the claws. Who told you that your ability was called, um-"

"Healing factor?"

"Exactly."

He sighed, "If I tell you my story, you tell me yours."

He had her in a corner, and Ororo was sure he knew it. Her past was something she didn't like to think about herself, let alone let anyone else in on. She realized with a start that that same thing must apply to him as well. At last, she nodded.

Logan sighed. He had been hoping she would refuse, "I was born sometime in late 1864, during the Civil War. I was raised with the biggest racial tensions you can imagine. My mother, being the extremely kind soul she was, raised me to believe that everyone was equal, in a time when equality as an impossible word.

"I grew like any normal child of that time until I hit about twelve. That's when the pain started. It is hard to describe, but out of that pain came my ability to heal and claws made of bone, making me look like a cat that can't get hurt. My healing factor also slowed down the aging process and when I reached about 38, I just...stopped aging. I became essentially immortal.

"It was pretty nice until _they_ came into my life. They offered me a chance to make a difference. Said I would play a huge role in the continuation of my kind. I agreed.

"When we got to the place where everything would go down, they told me it was called Weapon X. They were going to put me through a procedure that I may not live from. They were going to pretty much bind some unbreakable metal called adamantium to my bones, which included my claws. The only reason I'm still alive is because of my healing factor. This...metal has been poisoning my blood ever since it's been in, but because of my healing factor I don't need to worry about the poisoning."

He looked at Ororo and was shocked to see tears glistening in her blue eyes, "What...happened after that?"

Logan shrugged, "I escaped. I didn't want to be part of their plan anymore. A few more teams and troubles happened since, but I'm done with all of that team trouble for the rest of my life."

Ororo nodded, "Well, I guess it's time to let my story out. It starts a bit farther back than yours.

"It all started with my birth back in 1778. I was in Kenya, Africa. As I grew I began to notice I could do things with the weather around me. By late 1792, I was considered a goddess by my people. Four years later I turned 18. Four years later I was stolen from my home country. There was nothing we could have done to protect ourselves. When they took me out, which was from behind with a blunt object to the skull, we had no defense.

"At 18 years old I was brought to America. It was a disgusting ride in the cargo bay of a ship. It was filled to the brim with other Africans. Many died. I believe the only reason I didn't perish with the rest was my connection to the Earth.

"It was a new country, yes, but it was also a mean country. We were sold in a slave auction with people poking and prodding us, telling each other faults we had on our bodies. I couldn't do anything to save myself out of fear. Because I was scared I was weak.

"Finally some young lady came up with her mother to look at me. She young woman's name was Hilary. I never did find out Hilary's mother's name. She always made me call her Ms. Kenneth or ma'am. They took me to their mansion and Ms. Kenneth explained the harsh rules in a foreign language I didn't understand, but the tone and gestures were easy enough. I didn't want to end up like some of my fellow people I saw being beaten, so I cleaned as she gestured, never able to understand what she was saying. After about two months of this, and enough beatings to last a lifetime, Hilary came to my quarters.

"She slowly and patiently taught me English. I learned that she was 19, as was I, and didn't plan on getting married at any time, which was unheard of for women during that time. She was too busy helping us who were coming over from Africa. After about six months of grueling work, both from learning the language and doing her mother's chores, I finally learned the language. Only then did I realize just how mean Ms. Kenneth was with what she was actually saying. Ms. Kenneth died of pneumonia in 1804. I was 26 and had been working for their family for seven years. It was then that _I_ stopped ageing.

"After she died, everything was left to Hilary. Hilary never ordered me or any of the slaves that worked the fields to do anything, but we did out of loyalty. What we did, she paid us for. It was a wonderous time. Over the years she gradually grew sicker and sicker. At the age of 33, on April 16th, 1811, she died due to a brain tumor. I had known her for fourteen years.

"At the funeral, a man came over to where the slaves were gathered in their mourning, and announced that he was Hilary's cousin and would be taking over the estate. Working for Dwayne was _hell. _Not only was he hard on you while you were working, almost worse than Ms. Kenneth, but he...was very...touchy," Ororo said looking away.

Logan narrowed his eyes, "What did he do?"

Ororo looked out the window and continued, "He came down to the slave quarters one night and told me to follow him. He brought me to a guest bedroom. I didn't know what to expect, and my connection to Earth hadn't returned yet. He proceeded to...rape me. It hurt unlike anything I had ever experienced. When he had finished, he told me to hold my arms up and turn around on my knees.

"If I hadn't expected getting raped, then I definitely hadn't expected to get whipped right afterwards. That pain was excruciating and left large gashes in my back. I...I still have the scars. The routine was kept up until he was murdered in his sleep. The white police never found out who did it, but we were all thinking it was another slave who wanted to stop what was happening. They didn't have any evidence though. When Dwayne died, it was 1835.

"From there I was sold at another auction into another miserable life of slavery. The Johnsons were horrible people, and I never found out a single one of their names. To us slaves, they were all sir, ma'am, madam, miss, Mrs., or Mr. As you can imagine, with another lifetime there, the Civil War started. Living the life I had where I was surrounded by slaves I watched age and get worked to death, I cursed the God I had found while I was in America and wondered why I didn't die.

"God answered me, though, as he dropped a carriage filled with a few white children and a dying mother on the road in front of the house. I don't know what drove me to run out in the pouring rain, thunder, and lightning to help them, but I guess it was God. The mother told me to get her children to the North, that they had a purpose there. I promised even though I didn't see how I could, and that same night, I ran away.

"I wasn't part of the actual Underground Railroad, but I did my part in the same way. I never got caught, unlike so many others, but I was very fortunate in that respect. Maybe it's because I helped the infants and toddlers more than the adults. Sure, I smuggled a few adults out, but the infants and toddlers were much easier. They seemed to know they needed to be quiet.

"Well, from then on until today, it was a lot of moving around so others didn't recognize my white hair and blue eyes and remember that I'm supposed to be dead. Living through many of those wars and other crisis isn't so easy, as you know, but it's a lot easier than what it was back then."

Logan had never felt this level of shock before. Yeah, he had gone through hell, but that was a one in a million thing. This woman had lived through every torture her people faced in the United States short of death and she was still going strong.

Both had pasts they would rather forget. Both were tragic and painful, but both still beared the scars of it all.

**Review please! I'm sorry it took so long for me to get it up, but it's up now. The next chapter should be a little easier. This one was a lot of dates and math to get everything right. I had lost my muse to the math for a while.**

**If you have a Facebook account, I made a page dedicated to my fanfictions, so you can stay up to date on their happenings and such. Just search 'X-menobsessed26'.**


	7. List

**Thank you again Jeanniebird, peachbaby, and Lovely Reader for your reviews. I'll be re-uploading last chapter to get rid of that little author's note in the middle. For your continued kindness and support with this story, I thank you.**

It was clear to anyone who could see him, Logan was annoyed by something, as he swirled the beer in the bottom of his glass bottle around. More someone than something, actually. The most irritating part was she had no idea, at least, not that he was annoyed.

The things that were happening, it was pretty clear she knew about. Whenever their eyes would meet, the burning on their shoulders would start all over again. More often than either party would like they were communicating through thought when they really didn't want to be.

Besides those two annoyances, it was clear an attraction was growing between them, one that they didn't want but couldn't deny.

Logan was sure that the attraction wasn't being forced. He was genuinely attracted to the woman, and he knew she was attracted to him. He finished his beer in a quick swig and dropped it on the counter with a loud thump.

He walked home in the most silence he had heard in a late afternoon since he had arrived in Alabama. When he got back to the apartment, he saw Ororo going through boxes of things that must have been in the other room. She picked up an African mask and was looking at it wistfully, so she didn't notice him until he was standing right over her, "Do you want something?"

Logan sat on the ground next to her and grabbed the mask, not too rudely, out of her hands, "Where did you get this? You said you came over here with the slave raid. Obviously they didn't let you bring souvenirs with you."

"No," Ororo sighed. "They didn't. I went back to Kenya for a few years in 1903. I came back in 1919, just in time for the women's suffrage movement."

"Do you want to go back?"

Such a simple question, but so complex in her mind. She tossed the question around for what seemed like forever. Logan stared at her, mesmerized by how she could think so hard about a simple thing, "No...no, I don't think so. Yes, I miss Kenya, but I'd miss where I've spent most of my life as well. There's so much change here, and not really much in my tribe."

He nodded, an immense relief filling him by the words. A long pause fell between them, feeling like a canyon to Ororo, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to bridge over that gap.

Finallly, he initiated it, " 'Ro, we're going to have to figure something out. Figure out what's going on."

She cocked an eyebrow, " 'Ro?"

Logan shrugged in response, ignoring her question otherwise, "Look, I don't like this situation anymore than you do, but let's look at the big picture. Being able to control the weather and having claws, especially with adamantium isn't normal. If those things aren't normal, then what's happening to us now _definitely_ isn't normal."

She groaned and laid back on the floor, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, "What do you suggest?"

"This," he pulled a map out of his back pocket. It was a world map. "Is there anywhere on this map that's drawing you to it?"

She nodded, confused, "Quite a few. Why?"

"Take this pencil, and circle where those places are."

Still confused, Ororo accepted the pencil and circled, letting the same draw that was drawing her to Logan, draw her to different places. When she had finished, he looked at it, "So we have Egypt, the Himalayas in general, Canada, Mexico, China, and New York. Same as where I was drawn to. Why though?"

She shrugged, "I guess we'll find out eventually. That weird draw is telling me not to go exploring."

He nodded, "Mine too, though Canada seems a little less. Why? It can't be that it's closer. New York is closest. And farthest away it is not."

"Maybe because that's where we'll end up going first."

His eyebrows rose, "We?"

Ororo rolled her eyes, "Whenever you leave the apartment, you have that same draw to come back, right? I've seen you get up to leave and sit back down because it's so strong, and what do you know? A riot comes through right outside. Do you really think you'll get to Canada without that draw bringing you back. I doubt you could get to the city limits."

Logan stood and opened the fridge she had stocked earlier and took out two apples, tossing one to her, "I think we should start making a list of these different things. Things we should figure out, like the draw."

Ororo folded the map backwards so it was blank paper staring up at her and wrote it down along with, "The weird burning on our shoulders is another."

"And the...in each other's minds thing."

Neither was willing to say it so Ororo wrote down _unexplainable attraction_ down as well, "Now what?"

He frowned at her and swallowed his bite of fruit, "Now that we have our list, let's go shopping."

**What did you think? I tried to get this chapter out as fast as I could since I'm getting the most responses on this story, but it, honestly, takes a lot of research to do, even though it doesn't seem like it, especially with that list of places, some of which should be obvious as to why they're on the list. They may not, depending on what you know. **

**Anyway, enough of my chatter. Please review!**


	8. South Carolina

**Thank you to jazphace and Jeanniebird for reviewing. I re-uploaded last chapter because I added psychic bond to their list (_thank_ _you _Jeanniebird for that reminder).**

"Shopping" was a lot harder than they thought it would be. Ororo had a 1956 Toyota Stout double cab that they were going to use. Logan loaded his 1954 Harley-Davidson Hummer into the bed along with a few boxes of her belongings and non-perishable food. Logan and Ororo agreed that she should probably lay down in the second row of seats to avoid racial outbursts.

"Hey! While you're back there, can you look at the map again? Tell me if you're drawn anywhere?"

Ororo did as she was told, "Yeah, I am. I'm being drawn to..."

"Yeah?" Logan asked as he waited. He got no answer. " 'Ro? You alright?"

"I-I'm fine," she said, drawing a shaky breath. "We need to go to...South Carolina. I'll...tell you more when we cross the border."

Logan ran a hand through his black hair, "What's in South Carolina?"

Ororo laid her head on one of her arms as she read _The Bell Jar_ by Sylvia Plath, trying to distract her mind from wondering what could possibly come of going back, "Not now, Logan. Please, not now."

He never asked again.

* * *

><p>That is, until they crossed the border.<p>

"Where to now?"

"Pull off at the nearest gas station and buy a map."

Since they were nearly out of gas after having to stop twice in the first place, that didn't sound like such a bad idea. Logan rolled his eyes again at the $0.30 price of gas, filled the tank, and paid for that and the map. After he got in the truck he handed it back to Ororo, "Where are we going?"

He didn't have to have enhanced hearing to have heard the scraping of pencil on paper in the silence of the cab. Just when he was about to ask again, the map was thrust back up at him, "Follow the roads I drew on in pencil."

Logan supressed the urge to growl in frustration at the lack of answers and complied with what she said, unable to do otherwise. Damn draw.\

They arrived where Ororo had circled on the map two hours later. Both were extremely tired and irritable, but when they got out of the truck in front of a mansion that looked like something a monster may live in, Logan was the one who showed it.

He gripped Ororo by her upper arms hard, but not painfully, and glared at her through his brown eyes, "Why. Are. We. Here?"

She shrugged him off, "When I want you to know, I'll tell you."

"Damn it Ororo!" Logan exclaimed. "It's not just you in this game. I'm here too. Tell me why we drove all the way here."

She looked away from him and at the broken mansion and estate, "What do you see?"

Logan rolled his eyes, "A place that's seen better days."

"Yes, it has," Ororo agred. "But it's also seen horrible ones."

"And how would you know that?"

She ignored his question and walked up to the door, knocking on the rotted wood, hoping someone would answer.

After what seemed like forever, the door opened, nearly falling off it's rusted hinges. Behind the door was a little white girl, looking to be about four or five. She squealed and ran down the hall.

Ororo was about to leave the porch and go back to the truck defeated when she heard, "Don't mind Jessica. She's scared of everybody."

An old, very old, woman opened the door all the way. Her skin was wrinkled in every possible sense, and her hair was almost as white as Ororo's own, "Come on in. Both of you."

A very observant old woman.

Logan heard what the woman said and walked up to the house to join Ororo, Jessica, and the old lady.

"Would you like some tea, young lady?"

"No thank you ma'am," Ororo replied, confused by the woman's kindness.

"I'm sure you have many questions, but allow me to explain some things first, okay? My name is Elizabeth Kenneth," she started. "I'm sure you recognize the last name. Yes, Hilary Kenneth was my great grandmother's cousin once removed. I came here in 1923 looking for answers as to my heritage. I couldn't have been more surprised."

"Why are you surprised?"

Elizabeth smiled, "By her diaries and what she had found. She wrote often of you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," the old woman laughed. "Did you really think no one had noticed you when you were a slave? Hilary certainly did."

"Grandma!" Jessica whined. "I'm bored."

"Then go and play outside, dear. I'm busy at the moment," Elizabeth turned her attention back to Ororo and Logan. "I swear, children these days. They're getting lazier and lazier. When I was a child, you were lucky to have a radio and having a car was unheard of. Now everyone has one and radios are the thing of the past."

Logan supressed a laugh. He was now glad that he never aged anymore, otherwise he may have just been saying the same things as Ms. Kenneth to someone else. Times certainly had changed.

"Ms. Kenneth-"

"Please, call me Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth..." Ororo folded her hands in her lap to keep them from trembling. "What did you mean when you said she 'noticed me'?"

"Hilary started keeping a diary when she was about eleven years old. She never liked the racial tensions of the people in the south, and I would be a fool to say that I don't agree. I am many things Ororo, but I am no fool."

"How do you know my name?"

She sipped her steaming cup of tea before answering, "From the diaries, child. Do try and use some of the manners I know you have, and open those ears.

"Now, from where I left off, she decided that everytime a new slave came into their estate, which was quite often since it kept expanding, she would attempt to help them as much as humanly possible. Many of the slaves regarded her the same as they did her mother, with a wary anger. That is, until you came. You seemed to generally see the good inside of Hilary. That changed the perceptions of the slaves around you.

"Child, from just looking at you I can tell you have a power inside of you. Both of you do. It commands the area you're in, shows that you're the boss and not one to be messed with. Whether you knew it or not, despite the fact you were a young woman, all of the other slaves felt that pull and regarded you as a sort of leader."

"Me?" Ororo exclaimed. "Disregarding whether or not this is true, what does my supposed influence on them have to do with anything?"

"Everything, dear. Everything," she grabbed a chocolate-chip cookie that had been sitting on a plate on the counter so she could nibble on it as she gathered her thoughts. "You see, not only did you draw the other slaves to you, but you drew Hilary as well. She was always keeping a close eye on you. Well, you can imagine her shock when, you two being women of the same age, you reached a point where you stopped aging.

"She reckoned then that you would 'live forever, able to walk the planet among the scum and filth of human decadence only to rise above it all and reach new heights within, not only yourself, but a select few by which you are all bound by a power unlike anything the normal human population will have ever encountered before.' You can take her diaries with you and see for yourself what she thought. I thought that, if she was right, you would show up here at some point in your life. I'm old now, so I was going to try and teach little Jessie here about that little piece of importance, but now I see that I didn't have to. You were coming all along."

"Ms. Ken-Elizabeth," Ororo started. "Was there anything else mentioned that may have been...significant in any way?"

The old woman took another sip of her tea, "No, I don't think so. That was the only thing that sounded as if it may have been important. If you wish to check for yourself, you can take her diaries, just like I said. I certainly don't need them anymore, and I doubt Jessica will have an interest in them."

Logan stood, taking Ororo's forearm and practically dragging her through the kitchen doors and into the sitting room, where they picked up the box of diaries, and made to leave.

"Good luck, child. I hope you find what you're looking for," Elizabeth said as she closed the door.

Logan was walking back to the truck carrying the box, "Hilary Kenneth as in the same Hilary Kenneth that taught you English?"

She nodded.

"Damn," Logan said, thrusting it into the back, under a tarp they had picked up so if it rained, they wouldn't be destroyed. "So that woman could see at least part of something happening with you. Do you have any idea what it means?"

Ororo was looking out the window from the back of the cab at little Jessica, playing with rocks and flowers when she replied, "No, but I'll be damned if I don't find out."

**Review please! Does anyone have any ideas or suggestions as to where they could go in following chapters? Don't feel bad if I don't use your idea, though.**

**I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. It could be tomorrow or it could be early next week. Guess we'll see what happens.**


	9. Unwanted Meetings

**Thank you's once again go out to Jeanniebird and jazphace for their reviews last chapter. Great questions and suggestions given last chapter. **

**I got a PM last night, and I feel as if I should remind everyone who may be thinking it, that if you don't enjoy seeing characters remixed, don't read this one or pretty much any of my other fanfics. I've put multiple warnings up. Thank you.**

Logan could feel himself being pulled, and a map was the last thing he would need when he went back. There were more places on this planet that he associated with his past then he cared to admit to anyone, much less himself, so why couldn't it have been any other place?

"Where are we going, Logan?"

No answer.

"Logan?"

"You didn't give me a straight answer as to where we were going with you, so I'm not giving you one now," Logan snapped, immediately feeling bad.

Ororo felt her heart sink as the harshness of his words sunk in. She knew he didn't mean to snap, especially since he had been driving for almost an entire day now, but they still hurt nonetheless. Warm tears gathered in her eyes despite her angry thoughts yelling at them to stop. The day was wearing on her as much as it was him. He clearly got grumpy when tired. She was always close to tears...and grumpy.

The rest of the trip, which consisted of frequent stops for an array of different reasons, was spent in complete awkward silence. When Logan finally pulled up to their destination, he looked over the seat at Ororo.

She was fast asleep, a few white hairs tickling her face. Deciding that it was his own exhaustion and not the fact he didn't have the heart to wake her, he leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes, and slept.

* * *

><p>A loud bang on their truck was their unwanted alarm in the morning. They both jumped, Logan hitting his head on the ceiling in the process.<p>

"What was that?" Ororo said.

Logan was about to respond when his door was thrust opened, and something with claws grabbed him by the chest only to pull him out of the seat. Logan could feel himself being thrown and flying through the air only to land with a painful thud on the pavement. That didn't bother him.

What did was Ororo's involuntary scream of surprise turned to fear when she finally saw what had grabbed him.

Logan could smell him but it really didn't register until her scream, "Sabretooth."

"Can't even call me by my name, Runt? Not like I really give a shit. Sabretooth is plenty more badass," Victor Creed growled happily as he kicked Logan in the stomach hard. Knowing it wouldn't take Logan long to recover from his shock and the painful blow, he turned his attention back to the pretty smelling lady in the back of Logan's truck.

"What's this, Runt? You got a little nigger whore in the back and you won't share. C'mere honey and give me a taste."

She screamed again, moved as far away from him as possible, which wasn't very far, and shut her eyes as tight as they could go, concentrating on him just going away. She hoped if she focused on his departure hard enough, it would just happen.

"What the hell?" was all she heard before a sizzle followed closely by a loud bang which sounded suspiciously like thunder. Not hearing another sound, she dared to open her eyes a peek.

Much to Ororo's delight, the vulgar man wasn't anywhere to be seen. As quickly as she could, she crawled out of the truck and into the fresh air outside.

"No!" Logan shouted, getting up. "Get back in the truck!"

Confused, she turned around, and a greasy hand gripped her hard around the neck. She could see his other hand raised to strike down upon her with yellow claws caked with dirt and...dried blood? She didn't want to know.

Logan growled and popped both sets of claws out with their characteristic _snikt!_

Victor made a tsk sound, "Now, now you pathetic waste of space, you wouldn't want to make a move, would you? If you do, this woman's windpipe gets crushed or her face torn off. Whichever you decide."

"Let her go, Creed!" Logan roared. "NOW!"

"Listen to him Creed," a familiar voice he thought he would never hear again said calmly. "They won't be any good dead."

Victor made a defeated sound and dropped Ororo, clearly not caring what happened to her once she hit the pavement. At least she was smart enough to place her feet straight at the ground followed by her bum, or it would have been a nasty recovery from a broken hip or tailbone.

Logan wasn't paying attention to them anymore. His attention was turned completely to the Native American women emerging from the trees, "Silver Fox?"

She nodded, "I see Victor has already re-introduced himself."

Logan swallowed, though his mouth and throat were completely dry, "You're dead."

She laughed evily, "Yes, you did believe that, didn't you? After I died and you buried my body, Weapon X refused to let me stay dead. They revived my body and here I am today."

"So why aren't you working for them?"

She rose a black eyebrow, "Who's to say I'm not?"

"One, you're here. Two, you're here with Sabretooth. Three, you told me that nothing in Heaven, Earth, or Hell would ever make you return to Team X once you got out," he said, breaking out of the blanket of shock that her appearance had placed over him. He was suddenly aware of Ororo getting into the bed of the truck, sitting there and trusting Logan's clear knowledge of these people to keep her safe.

"Yeah, you never really did a good job of thinking out your arguements, did you Fox?" Christopher Nord, better known as Maverick, said coming out to stand beside the beautiful Native American.

"You're not really one to talk," John Wraith, better known as Kestrel, pointed out, coming out from behind the truck. "Besides, we should be focusing on Logan and this lady."

"What do you have to do with me?" Logan said, getting frustrated. "I left Team X. I'm finished."

"With Team X, yes," Silver Fox explained. "But you have a new mission before you. You have to learn."

"Learn what?" Logan said, retracting his claws.

Silver Fox's response was to turn around and walk into the forest, with Sabretooth and Maverick following. John clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder, "Don't worry, man. We'll explain later. You know Fox though. She gets a little...um...bitter, and she's still sore that she couldn't find you until you needed to be found."

"Why do I need to be found by you people at all?" Logan asked.

"All in good time, my friend," John said, turning to face Ororo. "For right now, I need to explain to this lady, Ororo did you say?, who we are."

And so he did, as John led them into the forest and off to their second piece of this puzzle. Logan had never had problems with puzzles before, but this one was really starting to get on his nerves.

**Review please and tell me what you think. Suggestions are always welcome, but no flames please! I have a main idea of where I want this story to go, but I'm pretty much in the same boat as the rest of you as I'm making this up chapter to chapter.**


	10. Team Xplain

**Continued thanks to jazphace and Jeanniebird for the support on this story. Every morning I wake up now, happy to continue this adventure.**

Logan, though he would never admit it, would probably never stop being shocked at their situation. He'd thought Silver Fox was dead, Victor had gone off to play with a ball of yarn somewhere, John was a pastor last time he'd checked, and Lord knows where Maverick had gone, though knowing him, he'd probably joined a new team.

The team had been destroyed, if you could have ever truly called them a team.

Logan was drawn back to this place, back to Weapon X. This was where he had been planning to go, not telling Ororo because it would have meant more explaining than he cared for. Though he was drawn back, he never expected _anyone_ from his old team to make their way into his life again, let alone clearly know the reason he was there.

Ororo and Logan were led back to a building that from the outside looked to be one level and only big enough to have, maybe, three good sized rooms. Once the doors were opened, they were surrounded by empty space, like a house that hadn't been sold yet. Though when Silver Fox touched a panel on the wall, stairs formed out of the floor, bringing flashbacks to everyone's mind except Ororo's.

John had done a good job of filling her in, giving her the information without much gruesome detail, which she was sure any of the others would have been stuck on as they were suddenly thrust back down memory lane. John seemed as if he had taken his past and turned it into something he could learn to live from. He clearly had a kind heart as he was the only one who cared at all about her...except for Logan, who was obligated for reasons they didn't know yet.

They were going to find out soon though. At least, that's what it seems like to Logan. Silver Fox implied she had all the answers in the world.

They reached a door that Logan and the rest of Team X had never before been allowed to enter. Silver Fox pressed a button in the side out of which came a pad of numbers. After she typed in the twelve digit passcode, four sets of metal doors, no doubt made out of something only adamantium can penetrate if not adamantium themselves, and revealed a room like something out of a spy movie.

Stations with metal desks accompanied by everything a state of the art that an evil scientist would need to oversee his duties was there with a conference table in front of a large screen. This advancement in technology was something Logan had seen before, but Ororo had never, and she was sure something here was either illegal or the government didn't know about. The latter proved to be true as she glanced at certain files on the desks.

_Good Lord._ Ororo thought. _What do they do here?_

_You mean, 'what did they do?'. They haven't been in business here in a long time, as I'm sure John told you._ Logan replied back.

_If we could learn to control it, this mind thing could become rather useful. _Ororo mused.

_I agree._ Even though Logan couldn't see it, he could feel her smile through her thoughts.

"This," Silver Fox said, motioning around the room. "Is where we've been since you last saw us. After we left Weapon X, we decided we needed to do something to prove they didn't have a hold on us. So we infiltrated the facility, _this_ facility, and killed them all. Then, after we got some insight into what was happening with you, we decided to wait for you here, knowing you'd come back."

"What 'insight'? What do you know about us?" Ororo asked.

Silver Fox glared at the Kenyan, "Nothing that won't be explained given time without interruption."

"To Hell with that!" Logan exclaimed. "I. Thought. You. Were. Dead. I thought Victor killed you for God's sake, and now I find out that Weapon X brought you back! Why didn't you try to find me?"

Silver Fox looked away, "What we had wasn't real, especially not after I found out the truth."

"Ignoring the fact that I still don't know what the truth is or how exactly you found out, how did you feel about this? You aren't the type of person to just give up from a fight!"

She whipped around so fast, he could feel the wind produced by her movements even though he was a good distance from her, "You _dare_ insinuate that you have _any_ idea who. I. Am. You know NOTHING! Not a thing!"

"You're right," Logan admitted with a glare of his own. "I don't know who you are. Not anymore."

Her eyes softened and she looked like she wanted to say something, but was rather rudely interrupted by a new guest, "Now _you_ are someone I've been wanting to meet for a long time. Honestly, the name 'Wolverine' doesn't fit you physically. Something more like 'Badger' would do you justice."

Logan snarled to face someone he had never met, but whom he had smelled in the facility before, "Would you like to keep the parts you were born with?"

The man standing in front of Logan was dressed in a red and black suit, covered from head to toe, with a utility belt and katanas across his back in an 'X' form, "Ooo, touchy, touchy. No matter. Maybe we can make friends some other way. I'm a fan of chimichangas. What do ya say?"

"Who the hell is this?" Logan asked, turning to face Silver Fox again.

The woman rolled her eyes in response, "Wade Wilson, but he prefers to be known by Deadpool."

"More like the Merc with the Mouth," Maverick said across the room.

Deadpool pointed at him, "If you were a vegetarian, I would tie you up and force feed you meatloaf for a crack like that."

Ororo scoffed at the man, disgusted by him. Logan couldn't blame her. He was pretty annoyed himself, "What do you know?"

"I know that you never truly loved me. Call it infatuation if you must, but it's more than that. You have a sort of compulsion aura around you that makes women you might have had the slightest chance with automatically attracted to you. It's a subtle hint given to the mind that neither the person it is administered to nor you yourself until this moment knew about," Silver Fox explained, sitting on the edge of a desk, copying Ororo.

Logan sat backwards in a chair, "What does that mean?"

She sighed, "We, as in John and I, think it's some sort of protection for you and your girlfriend."

Deciding not to argue the obvious fact that they weren't dating, he asked, "What kind of protection? Why would we need such protection?"

"Why you would need it is an answer you're going to have to seek from someone other than me," she shrugged. "You have many different types of protection on you at the moment from what we have observed, though some may be coincidence. Here. Take this file. Read over what we've found."

"So that's it," Logan said, unimpressed as he accepted the folder. "You tell us there's some protection over us, and you let us go."

"Yep! Life's just fine and dandy, huh?" Maverick said from across the room, as he leaned a chair up against the wall on two legs.

"I thought you wanted to kill us?" Ororo questioned.

Silver Fox laughed though she still wouldn't meet Ororo's face, making Ororo wonder if she was racist, "No, that's just Victor. He's a sadistic bastard who wants to kill everyone and everything. After the history he has with Logan, it wouldn't surprise me. I don't know why your protection didn't save you from Victor, but it may have to do with the history or something."

"Where do we go from here?" Ororo asked Logan, trying to ignore the fact she was creeped out of her mind by being stared at like she was lunch by Victor, a play toy by Wade, and an enemy that needed to be destroyed by Silver Fox.

Logan got out of his seat and looked at Silver Fox, "Do you have anywhere you would like to suggest?"

Silver Fox sighed, "Where have you gone already?"

They explained.

"I'd say, visit anyone who has treated you like family that is still alive that has some connection to a huge event in your past. With you, Ororo, Hilary was connected to being a slave and with you, Logan, we were connected to your assassin past."

Logan nodded, knowing where they were headed to next, "So we just get to walk out of here?"

"No. I'll teleport you out," John said, stepping forward. "No need to give Deadpool any 'fighty time' today."

Wade made a pouting sound, "Why? I could use their insides to spell really heart felt messages to you!"

John looked at him straight on while Ororo tried not to gag, "If you even think about touching them again, you'll wish you had never agreed to be part of the Weapon X program. You got it?"

Before he could respond, John grabbed Logan and Ororo's wrists and ported them back up to their pick-up, "You guys better scram. The four of us can only keep Victor from going after you two for so long. That grudge he has against you, Logan, has turned this into a prey / predator match. It's not going to be pretty. Where are you two headed?"

"Japan," Logan sighed. "We have to go to Japan."

John nodded, "Overseas would probably be best right now. Get going and don't stop unless you absolutely must, alright?"

Logan nodded and dragged Ororo back to the truck, thrusting her inside, "Thanks John. If we happen to figure this out-"

"Don't worry about it, man. We'll figure something out."

They started the truck and took off without further delay. Ororo climbed into the back and stared at him agast, "You actually _knew_ those people? You were friends with them?"

"Some. John has always been a good guy and Fox was my girlfriend at one time before Victor killed her. Victor has been an ass since the moment I met him, Maverick is a prick, and I wouldn't want to get to know Wade if it was the last thing I ever did."

She could see why, "I suppose you're not going to tell me why we're going to Japan."

"Not yet. If you want something to do, look over this file and see what you can tell me about the protection."

"As long as you get us there without Victor chopping us to pieces with his nasty claws," Ororo agreed.

_He won't touch you 'Ro. That I promise._

**Review for me please! 2 chapters up in one day! Exciting! It's only because I'm going to see the Hunger Games tomorrow so I'm taking a lead on probably not being able to update. Maybe I will. You never know.**

**What did you think of my inclusion of Deadpool? Should he or Silver Fox, John, or Maverick come back later or not? Suggest to me!**

**Next chapter will include an explaination of the protections, Japan, and those Logan is seeking in Japan. Any guesses as to who they are, though it should be rather obvious if you know about Logan and his connection to Japan.**


	11. Arriving in Japan

**Okay, I got the next few chapters figured out as much as I possibly can while still leaving room for improvement. Thank you for your understanding with my problem and I hope this doesn't happen again.**

Ororo tried not to feel sick as she looked around for the millionth or so time since they had set off from the harbor, but found it impossible. Ororo Munroe didn't get sea sick, so that wasn't the problem. The problem was the simple fact they were stuck in what must have been the smallest cargo bay in the world.

Logan had bribed one of the sailors in order to grant them passage on the _Mjnari_ all the way to Japan, but that passage didn't include open air. Ororo's claustophobia wasn't dealing very well with the circumstances.

Logan could feel her unease, but at the moment, he honestly didn't care. She was supposed to be reviewing the folder of information, " 'Ro! If you're not going to actually look at that stuff, hand it over."

The folder slid to a stop at his feet.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and tried to be strong, but found it very difficult. Logan's heart clenched as he looked at her. The part of his mind that hated being told what to do and that in turn hated her cursed the rest of his mind and body for reacting in that way.

Logan opened the folder and gazed at the papers, " 'Ro? Have you looked at any of these yet?"

She sighed, "I really wish you would start calling me by my name, and yes, I have."

"And?"

She turned to face him, trying to ignore the feeling of all of the walls closing in on her, "And I think they're the best information we have so far. All of them seem to apply."

"That's a scary thought given some of these," Logan said as Ororo nodded in agreement, clearly still extremely bothered by their proximity in the box. Thank God Harold had thought to leave the seal open a bit to allow air in.

They both looked at the notes in John's neat cursive script in silence, not wanting to say anything for fear of making this all even more true than it already was.

_"There is a compulsion aura around Logan that is a protection of sorts. It takes the attraction a woman may have found being around him and amplifies it to where the woman will fall in love with him. This can protect them in a number of ways by masking their relationship by doing just that so no one knows that they're aquainted, and no one will know of their actual relationship, which would be disasterous in the segregation of the United States."_

"Do you think it's really true?" Ororo asked him.

Logan did a quick replay of his life, "It worked on Silver Fox, she said it herself, and given my past...I'd say it's pretty true."

_"The seems to be an aura of a similar nature that intensifies Ororo Munroe's obvious calm and caring nature, making everyone around her who may not like her, even if it's racial anger, tolerate her to say the least. That could be an extremely valuable asset."_

He looked over at the Kenyan, "I don't have to ask you whether or not it's true, because it's pretty obvious."

Ororo shot him a glare, though she didn't mean it and was rather flattered, "What else is there?"

_"There seems to be what we have overheard the two of them calling a "draw" to the other. It seems they can't leave each other for long periods of time or over long distances. The knowledge as to why this is isn't yet known, nor is the knowledge as to what would happen if they were seperated as such."_

"Do you have any input as to what could happen if we _were_ to be seperated?" Logan asked, now staring her down, making her even more uncomfortable than she already was.

"No, but I honestly don't want to find out. Not only could it leave us more open for an attack from Sabretooth or anyone else who decides whatever this is shouldn't be, but any other kind of danger whether it be of human influence or otherwise."

Logan nodded in agreement, "Okay, next one."

_"We have also overheard them talking about being in each other's heads. Presence of a psychic bond? Could be extremely useful unless in the presence of a telepath."_

"That's what that is called?" Ororo asked.

"Apparently," Logan said, sighing. "There's only two more notes."

_"Another one of our observations, though this one would be nearly impossible to prove without the help of the subjects, leaves us with unconfirmed evidence of an instinct. This one is close to the psychic bond, but it's not something they can communicate through, nor something a telepath could pick up on the presence of, unless the subject was thinking about it. The subjects seem to have an instinct of knowing exactly where the other one is, in the same room or building, without have to tell the other and whether or not they are in harm's way. Again, this is unconfirmed and we must wait for_ evidence."

Logan looked at her and she looked back, looking extremely startled, but whether it was from the new intel or the creaking of the metal of the ship he wouldn't know unless he looked into her mind, which he suspected now he could do.

"Do you think that one's true?" Ororo asked suddenly, obviously not liking the silence. He couldn't say he did in this moment either.

"I'd put money on it. Now that I've thought about it, I recognize I was using it before," she simply nodded in understanding.

_"Lastly, this is more of a note. We're not yet sure of the significance of this information or whether it is simply coincidence, but danger always seems to at the very least avoid Ororo unless she is directly involved, and moves into Logan's path. The racial riots that form around her apartment always seem to leave fairly quickly and move toward the bar or hotel or wherever Logan is at the time. Why this could be is not known either."_

"I don't have an answer for that and I know you don't either, so let us just forget about it for tonight and...attempt to sleep, 'kay?" Logan said, holding up the small oil lamp they had been given so the light could shine to where her little "bed" had been set up. She crawled over to it without a word spoken until the light went out.

"Logan...who are we meeting?"

He huffed, "You'll find out eventually. Besides, there's so many people I'm tied to here, I couldn't even begin to tell you."

She nodded even though he couldn't see and fell asleep in no time. Logan wasn't so lucky

* * *

><p>Ororo was woken the next morning to Logan shaking her awake. She looked up at him and he put a finger to his lips, then beckoned her to follow him. Time to leave.<p>

As quietly and quickly as possible, they slipped from the cargo bay of _Mjnari_, with Ororo hoping she never had to do that again. Damn closed spaces.

Knowing better than to ask Logan where they were going, she couldn't help wondering and her eyes were attracted to everything around her. It was all so busy and foreign that it was almost like a whole new world, which, in a way, it kind of was. As it turns out, they didn't have to walk very far. Logan stopped, every muscle in his body tense, but not in an attack mode.

"Yukio?"

A young woman, about mid-thirties Ororo would guess, stepped forward with her black hair cut into a pixie style and some of the tightest black clothes Ororo had ever seen. The young woman smiled at Logan, "Good to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same, but at the moment, ghosts of my pasts are tending to spell more trouble than it's worth," Logan admitted.

She cocked her head to the side and looked straight past Logan and at Ororo, "Are you okay?"

Ororo nodded, not feeling the shyness she usually experienced around new faces, "Better than I could be."

The Japanese woman laughed, "Isn't that always the case?"

"How did you know we would be coming?"

Yukio smirked, "I don't remember ever saying I knew you would be coming."

"Why else would you be here?" Logan gestured around. "You hated this part of town."

"You're right. I did and still do."

Logan supressed a growl, but it didn't go unnoticed mentally by Ororo, "I repeat, how did you know we would be coming?"

Yukio shot him a look that neither Logan nor Ororo could read and said simply before turning heel and walking off, "Amiko."

They were powerless to follow. The walk was clearly going to be a silent one with nothing contributed by Yukio and the couple not wanting to say anything that might be picked up, so instead, Ororo and Logan used their new "protection".

_So how do you know Yukio?_ Ororo thought at him.

She heard his mental sigh in response. _Long story darlin'. The main point is we had a thing for a couple days, but it was pretty clear it wouldn't work out. We've been friends ever since. She also takes care of my foster daughter, Amiko, after her mother was killed. Yukio and I became especially close after my lover was killed. Her name was Mariko Yashida, and Yukio had grown to be...well, I can't say they were friends, but they definitely weren't enemies, ya know?_

_So what happened?_

_A nasty series of events that led me to leave Japan about thirteen years ago. Amiko would have to be about seventeen or_ so.

Ororo decided not to press any further, having gotten all of the basic information she required...for now. After walking for what felt like hours, and probably was, they arrived at a small, traditional Japanese house. There were a few lights on in the house, welcoming them in out of the dark.

"Amiko！ローガンはここだ！出てくると挨拶。 **(1)**" Yukio shouted in a voice that seemed to echo off of every object in the room.

A young Japanese girl walked into the room, "バックローガンを歓迎する！ **(2)**"

Logan smiled at her and responded, "私は日本を逃したどれだけ忘れていました。私たちはよりよい今英語を話すと思います。**(3)**"

Amiko laughed, "Of course."

"How did you know we were coming, Amiko?" Logan asked her.

Amiko had a flash of fear pass over her face, but it lasted only an instant, "I've been having dreams. I knew they weren't just my imagination, and here you are to prove it."

"Dreams?" Ororo asked, the look of motherly concern that passed over her face not going unnoticed by Logan. "What happened in them?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but then all of the lights went out of the room. Ororo felt herself being shoved into the far wall, and heard grunts and screams she couldn't get in on. The last scream chilled her to the core. It was from Amiko.

The lights came back on and Ororo saw Logan laying on the floor in a puddle of blood and Yukio slumped against the wall across the room. A scream built up in her, but got stuck in her throat. Besides, screaming wouldn't do any good at the moment.

Logan suddenly stood, looked around, and offered a hand to help Ororo up. She was hesitant to take it because of the feral look that glowed within his brown eyes. Logan then walked over and stood next to Yukio, feeling her pulse. Ororo gulped, "Is she-?"

"She's fine, if only unconsicous," Logan growled. "She won't be fine when she wakes up and notices that Amiko's missing."

"We need to find her, for more reasons than the obvious," Ororo stated.

Logan nodded, "I agree, but finding her will be the easy part."

"What do you mean?" Ororo asked, suddenly afraid. "Do you know who took her?"

"Let's just say you better be ready for a fight."

**I'm sorry it took so long and I apologize for this chapter being shorter than I first anticipated, but if I would have waited to make it longer, it probably wouldn't have been up until June. That being said, I'm not sure when the next chapter is going to be up. This story is a little more difficult to write than I first anticipated.**

**Translations :  
><strong>**1 - Amiko! Logan is here! Come out and greet!  
><strong>**2 - Welcome back Logan!  
><strong>**3 - I forgot how much I missed Japan. I think we better speak English now.**


	12. Titles Given

Logan's natural instincts of going at it alone were telling him to leave Ororo and Yukio behind. Unfortunately, his newer instincts were telling him to take them with. After all, he didn't know who he was facing.

If he was to be completely honest with himself, it wasn't his lone wolf nature, or just that, which made him want to leave Ororo behind. He hadn't even known the woman for a week and he was already deeply in love with her.

He waited by the door while Ororo checked over Yukio with some medical skills she had picked up over the years. After about five minutes, she walked over to him with a grace in her step not unlike that of a night breeze, "Yukio will be battling a nasty concussion and quite a few broken bones, including a cracked skull, for the next couple of weeks. She can't come with us."

Logan nodded, "Then it's just you and me. Let's go."

The trail of the attacker wasn't that difficult to pick up, in particular because they clearly wanted to be followed. There was something about his/her scent that puzzled him right down to the core. It was familiar, almost like it belonged to a memory long repressed. It didn't belong with the rest of the environmental scents, though it was similar, so it was throwing his remembered placement of them off.

Ororo didn't let her feet touch the muddy ground, instead using the winds to hold her above the ground, but near Logan. She also used her fog manipulating abilities and constructed a protective shroud to help conceal them and protect them.

She found she was mesmerized by this feral man. His enhanced senses made his tracking much more skilled than that of a normal human, and pure training had him silent as he walked over many surfaces that should have creaked, cracked, or groaned. Nothing happened.

Even looking past his obviously amazing skills was the fact that it was just...him. His underlying personality drew her in while his mannerisms, some of which were clearly put on for the show of it all, disgusted her. It hadn't taken long to figure out that she would end up falling head over heels for him, even if she wasn't yet, but she wondered if he could and would find a way to beat destiny in order to prove to himself he didn't have to be tied to her.

They stopped short of a rundown building, probably an abandoned warehouse, which nearly made Logan laugh. Talk about stereotypical nonesense. He couldn't laugh quite yet. His enemies, and Amiko, were waiting.

"'Ro, I want you to stay here."

"What?! Why?"

"I have that feeling in the draw again. The moment you took a step toward the building, a huge urge to grab you and shove you behind me shot through my body. I think...I think that means you should stay," he explained, feeling emensely awkward at the strange vulnerablity.

Thankfully, she only nodded after a brief hesitation and sat down on a ledge, "Be careful."

"Always."

* * *

><p>He sniffed the air. The scents were stronger here, like it had been their base for some time. Strange. Why would they lead him back <em>to<em> the base and not from it? He focused and found Amiko's sugary scent and followed it.

As he ran down a large hallway, he was suddenly hit with a pulse of electricity. His metal bones felt like they were made of fire, making his blood boil. When it eventually ceased, he heard footsteps approach. His healing factor was fast, but not fast enough to help him then, especially when he was as shocked as he was.

Someone reached down and took a hook he hadn't noticed in his flesh, resulting in one moment in which he cursed his learned pain tolerance, and ripped it out, his tender body surging with the pain. He made a sound in between a groan and a growl as they placed more electrical cords to his body as they lifted him roughly onto a metal slab, to something one might find in a morgue. He was rolled down the corridors, and try as he might, his temporarily damaged brain couldn't focus on the way he was being taken in order to produce an accurate escape route.

He heard the people who had rolled him into a large, open room leave (unfortunately not leaving him with any recognition of who they were). His body continued to heal but as soon as he tried to move he was hit with another surge of electricity.

Then a manical laugh, a woman's by the tone, rang throughout the room, "Funny. We are so different, and yet we can both be severely hurt by the same thing. Electricity. It damages us in different ways, though. If you were a regular human, you would be dead by now, but you're not, are you?"

She walked into view, "No, I may look like a monster after my transformation into part machine, but you, Logan, will always be the true monster."

He felt like he couldn't breathe. She wasn't...she couldn't be...no! She laughed again, guessing his thoughts, "But it is me. Like I said just a second ago, I have allowed myself to be partly taken over by machines. I am now unstoppable. I am one of the world's greatest creations! I am a cyborg! I am _Lady Deathstrike_!"

"Yuriko."

Yuriko Oyama stood over him, wearing a uniform unlike anything he had ever seen before as it was red and gold in nature, but looked samurai. She said she was a cyborg, but her body didn't show it except for her hands. They were left clawed and deformed by an attempt at gaining power. She used one of these claws to press a button on a remote control that lifted him up so he could see in front of him. He saw Amiko, trapped inside of a glass cage, lethal looking cyborgs all pointing their weapons at him, though one was focused on the young girl.

He growled, "Let. Her. Go."

"I think not. I have been watching you, Logan, for quite some time. How is that pet of yours? The African?"

He stiffened and growled again, "If you touch her-"

"You'll what? Growl at me some more?" Yuriko put a claw at his throat. "I have no interest in her. From what I learned, she's useless. No. Ending you will end her just as effectively, but first, I want you to watch your pretty little girl suffer. Your foster daughter, if I'm not mistaken."

"What will you do when Yukio comes for you, which she will," Logan asked arrogantly.

"That pathetic excuse for human space is no threat to us, especially if she's watching over a girl as easy to watch as this."

He smirked, "If she's so easy, why is she locked in a cage with a gun pointed at her?"

Her answer to the question was torture for Logan. Amiko screamed as she watched, not wishing to see it but not able to look away. The young girl wasn't sure how long they tortured him, but there was a lot of blood, screams, and it seemed like it had taken a while. She just wished it would end.

* * *

><p>Ororo couldn't hear the screams with her ears, but she could in her mind, their mind as she had begun calling it. The pain was clearly terrible and left her shaking with fear. Would they come for her? Should she run? Was it even worth it?<p>

As the screams continued she knew there was only one answer to her questions, and Logan wasn't going to be happy.

* * *

><p>Logan waited for the next wave of pain to come over him. He knew that this was just for Yuriko's pleasure. If they really wanted to torture him, all they would have to do is hurt Amiko or, he thought with a gulp, Ororo.<p>

He heard, or rather didn't hear, silence fill the room just before frantic shouts of confusion and frustration started. Then, before they could get any farther, there was a sizzle and a loud bang, with crashing of glass and a large burst of wind to follow. He opened his eyes just a crack and felt himself fall in love.

Ororo was an angel. No, more than that. She was a goddess.

Her white hair hung around her in a glorious frame as her body was surrounded by an aura of bright, white electricity. With a shout, she directed bolts of hot lightning at the Reavers, sending them into a panic. They couldn't get very far, as their circuts fried on the overload of static. He hoped Amiko wasn't watching, but doubted it.

She gracefully lowered herself from the embrace of the winds to the cold, cement floor as she directed one last sizzling shot at the woman he had once thought he loved. She screamed just before she was knocked unconscious...or worse. Her gaze feel on the rough man and ran to his side, quickly undoing his restraints and helping him down to the floor, "How can I...what can I...?"

He waved her off, "Go. Help. Amiko."

She stood up sharply and looked around, finally spotting the young girl surrounded by glass she guessed had been a prison for her. She beckoned the girl forward, not willing to leave his side. The side of a man who had only wanted to keep her safe. The side of her guardian.

"What was it you had wanted us to learn?" Ororo asked.

Amiko smiled, "You already have."

**I know. It's been FOREVER since my last update, but my inspiration...left. I'll still continue it, but they're going to be extremely slow updates, as if my pause wasn't any indication. I hope someone is still reading this, and if you are, bless you! Thank you to my two consistant reviewers and few readers.**

**Also, this was not quite the action scene I had planned, and didn't have nearly the amount of characters I had planned, but I got it out. I hope it qualifies as...something!**


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